


SHOUTING AT THE MOON

by therearethingsineed



Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: Family, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therearethingsineed/pseuds/therearethingsineed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lip summarizes the events of an evening spent with his family and the Milkovich children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SHOUTING AT THE MOON

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was given to me by an anonymous user from tumblr who wanted to see Mickey interacting with the Gallagher family. I might have gotten a little carried away, but that's what it's all about, right? Rated teen, just to be safe. c:

So, fucking Mickey’s sister had taught me two things. One, don’t piss off a Milkovich. Two, don’t _inspire_ a Milkovich.

As a Gallagher, however, I learned that doing those things was relatively inevitable.

Which is what brings me to my dining room table, surrounded by my family, my neighbors, and the two youngest Milkovich children.

Son of a _bitch_.

Ian looked smug, sitting on the kitchen counter, hands in his lap. His face was turned down, but only to hide the shit-eating grin he was wearing. He and I had a different take on what was happening. Ian, being Ian, was excited. Unbeknownst to most everyone in the room, he had brought his boyfriend to meet his sister slash surrogate mother. And that, to my little brother, was the definition of pretty fucking awesome.

I, on the other hand, had been living with Mandy in my bedroom for some time, meaning that while there was no special reason for her sitting at the table, she figured there was. And, I mean— shit. She’s a good person, behind her left hook and her glare. I wasn’t the best boyfriend to her, but I didn’t want to tell her this wasn’t for her, either.

The two siblings sat at the table, shoulder to shoulder, but they couldn’t have looked more different. Mandy had been, for the most part, accepted by my family. Fiona still gave her trouble, but Mandy could hold her own, and Debbie liked her company enough to make up for the difference.

Mickey, on the other hand, looked ready to leave. Promptly. Without a word. His eyes were focused on the tabletop, expression blank, hands balled into tight fists. If Ian noticed his discomfort, he didn’t move to alleviate it. My brother had once told me that it was more concerning to see Mickey relaxed than tensed, so I supposed this was par for the course for him.

I stared at the man for a moment, seriously attempting to see what it was Ian saw. Mickey was my age, but had never been one for school, so there had been few classes we’d actually shared. Fewer still that either of us were present for. He had an unconventional set to his face; houndish eyes and sharp eyebrows. His hair was dark, nearly jet black, making him seem even more pale than he really was. Razor sharp nose and a strong jaw. He literally looked like a small, angry vampire.

The table was alight with chatter, but there was a pervasive sort of pressure that settled over everyone. Veronica and Kevin kept the ball rolling, but it was surprisingly neither of them that got Mickey to utter his first words of the evening. 

It was Carl.

I guess it’s true what they say about like minds, huh?

Sadistic and strange as ever, Carl sat parallel to Mickey, ripping the arms off of Debbie’s old Barbie dolls and handing them to Liam to chew on. He pulled out a small lighter from his pocket and started burning one of the appendage-less Barbie’s faces.

“You should start at the top.”

Silence ensued, everyone’s eyes falling on Mickey. He shifted awkward in his seat. “What?” He said, daring anyone at the table to question him. gesturing back to the Barbie and Carl, he reiterated. “Her face— start burning it from the top, not the bottom.” Carl, appearing to have discovered Jesus, stared at the delinquent in awe. “It takes longer, and looks way creepier.”

Turning the lighter, Carl focused on the Barbie’s forehead, which quickly began to collapse and drip. Her forehead ran down her face, contorting her expression into something that resembled what Slenderman might look like if bludgeoned with a baseball bat. “Cool.” Carl murmured, smiling evilly. Everyone else looked on with a sort of morbid distaste, the kind that prevents you from eating anything immediately after, but also inhibits you from looking away.

Ignoring the rest of the group, Mickey motioned for the lighter and a new doll. Carl obeyed immediately, shocking us further. _Carl was listening to someone_. One or two uncomfortable glances later, Mickey was showing my baby brother how to use the small flame to melt the Barbie’s joints and fix them into new, more twisted positions.

“That’s definitely unique,” I murmured upon the sight of their combined creation. The Barbie’s knees were bent at a painful angle, her nose had been burned off and her arms had been melted together. Also, her chest had been burned in.

I expected Fiona to chime in, but she was silent. Glancing up at her, I saw mixed emotions. Strictly speaking, Mickey wasn’t doing anything harmful. Yeah, it was gross and weird, but it wasn’t like Carl wasn’t already a bit of a sociopath. At the same time, it wasn’t healthy to promote the behavior. She also didn’t want to provoke Mickey, though, leaving her in a jam. It didn’t help that she was quartered in the kitchen, tending to the massive lunch needed to feed all of the people currently huddled around her table.

Before anyone could say anything else on the matter, Carl reached his hand over the table, a manly gesture for such a skinny little kid. Mickey eyed, and slowly took it, shaking it with clear reticence. “Carl Gallagher.”

Mickey’s eyes darted up to Ian for just a second. Only the briefest of looks, it still managed to scream _what the fuck_. “Mickey… Milkovich?” He responded in kind, pulling his hand back quickly.

I hadn’t noticed, but Mandy had been smiling through out the course of the interaction. Shoving at her brother’s shoulder, she gave him a smile that read, _look, you’re making friends!_ and he responded with an expression in kind, _this place is a freak show!_

I had to agree, it was a bit of an odd place. I figured so long as Mickey wasn’t beating anyone up or making threats, however, he couldn’t hate us all that much.

A bevvy of conversation ensued, a slow pick up turning into a flood. There was laughter and joking, and after a few minutes, Mickey had managed to get the stick out of his ass and was murmuring quietly to his sister, and occasionally to Carl.

He smiled once, when Liam held one of the Barbie arms over his head and shrieked gaily. It looked like he had just bested her in combat, which was an admittedly hilarious thought. 

With a massive lunch in the making, it wasn’t unreasonable for me to stand and go to my sister, who was presently bent over the stove, stirring jarred marinara sauce. “So, how’s it going?” I said in a slow, distinctive manner.

Dropping the ladle on a paper plate, Fiona glared at me before checking the mozz sticks in the oven. I waited, glancing up at the table. Ian had taken my seat, and was in the midst of a thumb war with Mandy. Oddly, Mickey seemed more relaxed, coaching his sister while she shrieked at him to shut up. I wondered if it was the proximity of Ian, or just the epic thumb battle.

Probably Ian.

Eventually, Fiona stood, sighing heavily and wiping at her brow. “I’m just edgy,” she murmured, “I keep expecting him to whip out a gun or something.” Chances were, Mickey did have a gun on him, but he seemed in no danger of pulling out now. His attention, now divided between the thumb wrestling and Carl throwing Cheerio’s at Liam, he seemed almost happy. “Why did Ian insist on bringing him?”

Fiona knew, to an extent, that Ian was gay. It had been slightly unavoidable after Jimmy’s dad had attempted to crawl into bed with him, inside our own house. She wasn’t strictly aware of his relationship with Mickey, however. It wasn’t an excessively difficult leap, but she was a busy woman and, to be fair, no one would guess Mickey was gay just by looking at him.

Shit, I still had trouble with it sometimes.

I only shrugged. “You know Ian. Besides, they work together. Maybe they’re friends?” I knew the answer to that, obviously. Still, Fiona needed a viable excuse, and I was the best person to provide one. “He seems to be doing alright.” He was now assisting Carl in throwing Cheerio’s at Liam, which delighted the toddler to no end.

Fiona just sighed, and went back to stirring her sauce.

Lunch went smoothly enough. Gallagher meals were pretty easy to join; just grab at whatever you want before it disappears. Both Mandy and Mickey seemed to have no problem with this, each loading up their plates swiftly. Beers were passed around, and the two shared a private cheers before stuffing their faces. It was easy to see that they were close, despite everything. Ian had told me before that they were the only two who had a semi-normal relationship within the household. Maybe that was healthy, for both of them.

Stomachs stuffed, we moved out to the living room to partake in whatever show Animal Planet was boasting. We piled haphazardly onto the couches, chairs and floor. Mandy settled in beside me, while Ian, Debbie, Fiona, Carl and Liam took the couch. Veronica and Kevin settled on the floor near me, while Mickey and Jimmy took the floor closest to the kitchen (get all that?).

Oddly enough, the routine seemed oddly familiar to Mickey and Mandy. Mandy had been with us for a while, so I knew she knew what to expect, but he followed just as surely. It wouldn’t surprise me to know he led a similar home life, just with less company. 

For the next hour, things were cool. There was some kind of animal countdown show— The top ten most dangerous predators or some shit— and people were making bets on which animal could come up next. We were wrong basically every time, but it was still funny to hear the guesses and insult the people who were way off base.

When next I looked over at Mickey, he was sitting rock still, and Debbie was bent over, murmuring in his ear. Sitting on the couch behind him, her hunched form looked small, almost defeated. I hadn’t really noticed, but she _had_ been more quiet than normal. She was wringing her hands, staring at the floor just beyond Mickey’s knee. He was listening to her, uncomfortable but not in danger of quitting the conversation. When she was done, she looked at him, and he murmured something back. He cracked his knuckles and nodded, gesticulating vaguely with either understanding or compassion. I hadn’t expected either, but then I realized he probably knew how to deal with little sisters better than I would have ever given him credit for. Mandy was a handful, even now.

It was an unspoken agreement that everyone was going to stay the night. Most of us were too full still by the time dinner preparations began, but we were all feeling happy from alcohol and relaxed by cigarettes. The party separated; Mickey, Ian, Kev, Carl and Debbie all loitered in the living room while Fiona grabbed up Liam, Jimmy, Veronica and I and retreated into the kitchen.

Veronica was the first to speak. “Damn, that kid is creepy.” She shuddered, casting a furtive look at the living room. None of us had to ask who she meant.

Jimmy and I, being male and therefore less concerned with nearly everything, shrugged. “He seems to be doing fine. I don’t think he wants to cause any trouble.” Jimmy crossed his arms, preparing to be otherwise educated.

Fiona, of course, picked up the demented mess of Barbie that Mickey and Carl had crafted. There was an extra leg melted in place over the doll’s crotch that had been added since before we ate. “This is fine?” She asked, worriedly. “He’s fucking nuts!”

“To be fair, that was mainly Carl,” I said quietly. She ignored me.

“Alright, then, tell me true, Lip,” Veronica started, turning to me. “That boy has killed someone, yes or no?”

I couldn’t exactly lie. “Yeah, probably.” I shrugged. “We all have blood on our hands though, and he’s not casing our house or anything.” I wouldn’t have trusted Mickey with much, but subtlety was one thing I knew he couldn’t produce. If he had any intentions other than to awkwardly endure the evening for the sake of his sister and Ian, he wouldn’t bother hiding them.

Fiona wasn’t satisfied. “And what about on the couch, when he was talking to Debbie? She gets enough fucked up ideas from Frank, she doesn’t need to start with the neighborhood Freddie fucking Krueger!” It appeared I wasn’t the only one watching him closely. The interaction between he and my sister was definitely interesting, but Debbie was a Gallagher, and as long as she kept the bottle out of her hand, she’d be fine. 

“Fiona,” I made an exasperated noise— I’d honestly rather be playing Halo in the living room than defending Ian’s piece of ass, but he was my brother and I wasn’t going to let him down. “Just give it a break. He hasn’t murdered anyone yet.”

Suddenly, “You _shot_ me!” Kev shouted from the room over. Fiona was moving in seconds, Veronica right behind her.

Mickey was sitting on the couch, Carl and him both wearing self-satisfied grins. A small knuckle bump passed between them and they went back to playing— _wouldn’t you know it_ — Halo. Kevin begrudgingly passed the controller to Debbie, who shook her head at it and handed it to Mandy. Ian was sitting on Carl’s other side, observing. “Kevin fucking sucks at Halo,” he commented, seeing the party of us standing in the doorway.

Fiona turned to glare at me, but it was half-assed and tired. Shaking her head, she towed Liam and Jimmy back into the kitchen to start on some kind of scrap supper. Veronica was behind Kevin, rubbing his shoulders and promising him that he would always be her Master Chief. Chuckling, I settled in next to Ian and watched the drunk video game playing commence.

Debbie seemed disinclined to leave Mickey’s side, as did Carl. They both had stars in their eyes whenever they looked at him, and I didn’t know whether to gag or laugh. The delinquent from down the street was teaching my baby brother how to rack up kills in multiplayer while my baby sister looked on as if he was some kind of war hero. Mickey, focused on the virtual slaughter at hand, noticed none of it.

“This’s going better than I’d hoped,” Ian said to me, keeping his voice low. He was still wearing that grin I’d spotted on him earlier. “He’s getting along with them.” We both ignored the fact that our sister was ready to explode from nerves. It seemed unnecessary.

“Mickey has enough siblings and family to get the general idea,” I murmured in kind, watching him light Mandy’s character up with a grenade. Carl laughed. Debbie sighed. “D’you know what he was talking to Debbie about?”

Ian shook his head. “Haven’t had the chance to ask.”

Nodding, we watched a while longer. Eventually, Fiona came back into the living room, looking surprisingly tired, and stating a pizza was on its way. A half hour later we were chowing down on a taco pizza with extra everything. Carl and Debbie threw olives at each other, Mickey smeared sour cream on his sister’s face and Liam accidentally swallowed some super-hot hot sauce.. Overall, a pretty tame meal.

After dinner, Fiona escorted Debbie, Carl and Liam upstairs to get ready for bed. It was getting late, but all those above the age of sixteen settled in for a movie. Everyone had a beer or a cigarette, and we were quiet. I was ready to leave, head upstairs with Mandy, have a little fun. I had a pleasant buzz and was thoroughly finished with the evening. I was relatively positive that Mickey had started snoozing, judging by the alarming angle at which his cigarette was hanging from his mouth. Ian plucked it up before it fell, smiling to himself. And y’know, I couldn’t help but smile a little too.

The movie was about half way done when Kev and Veronica passed out, slumped over each other on the couch. I stood, stretching, and Mandy followed suit. We were both ready for a little space. 

Ian eyed us, but only nodded. His attention was half on the movie and half on Mickey. No doubt he was waiting for everyone to leave so that the two of them could bounce and have a little fun. I wouldn’t be a good brother to deny him his rectal festivities, so I rested an arm over Mandy’s shoulders and the two of us headed upstairs with little more than a wave and a murmured goodnight. 

When we reached the top of the stairs, I spied Fiona sitting outside Debbie’s room. Her hair was up in a messy bun, she had a stain on her tee and she looked ready to lay down right there on the floor and sleep. Mandy saw the same thing I did, and after kissing me once, she wisely stepped into my room and closed the curtain. I made the walk down the hall, sitting beside my sister with a pronounced sigh. “What’s got you looking like roadkill?” I asked, expending all of my pent up Gallagher charm.

Fiona was a smart woman. She didn’t need a degree or a diploma or a fat check; she was a survivor and everyone knew it. She had good instincts and better intuition than anyone I’d ever met, and more often than not, she was kind. I’d never tell her that, mind you, but it was true. So it surprised me when the first thing she uttered was, “I was wrong about him.”

I frowned. “Who, Jimmy? Mickey?”

She shook her head to the first and nodded to the second. “Mickey.” Heaving a sigh of her own, she straightened her legs and turned to look at me directly. “I talked to Debbie. Asked her what they had been whispering about.” She fumbled with her shirtsleeves— a nervous habit. “I just wanted to make sure he didn’t like… proposition her or some shit. I know how Terry treats Mandy. Who knows if that runs in the family.”

I winced a little, the statement harsh. I was biased, of course, having spoken about Mickey with Ian. I knew that behind his grizzly bear attitude, he wasn’t all bad, but it made sense that Fiona had her suspicions. “And?”

Another surprise— Fiona laughed. “He gave her advice on bullies.” She nodded, a tired, defeated look. Something that screamed, _boy, did I get that one wrong_. “I made her spill the rest of the details. S’why I’ve been up here so long. Apparently, some boys are making fun of her hair, and her clothes. And her father.” We both shuddered. “She was having a rough time, but didn’t want to bring it to us since we’re all so busy these days. She knew Mickey was a tough kid, so she asked him.”

“What’d he say?”

“Nothing I disapprove of, surprisingly.” Fiona certainly seemed surprised, her eyes wide despite the telltale bags. “Told her to look them in the eyes and laugh at them. Challenge them, make them feel the fool. Told her that people only have the power we give them— can you believe that, out of Mickey fucking Milkovich?” I couldn’t tell if she was ready to laugh or cry. “And then he told her if that didn’t work, just to say that he would pay them a personal visit if they didn’t back off.”

For a moment, I was… Well, dumb-founded. Ian wasn’t lying— Mickey really did have something good buried beneath all of his huffing and puffing. For a quiet second, I considered. Thought. Processed. Mickey wasn’t a big guy. Scrappy, but well built and sturdy as all get. I remembered him being a wily kid, stick thin with an attitude the size of Illinois. I considered his family, a gang of massive men and frightening women. I thought about how Mickey was the one who always seemed to be in charge, despite being one of the youngest and smallest. And then I processed. Being raised by bullies, it made sense that Mickey learned how to tolerate them. Even better, he learned how to _beat them_.

And he was willing to go hit up a couple of twelve year old boys for my baby sister just so she could have that chance too.

Damn it all if, for one sparkling moment, I didn’t respect the fuck out of Mickey Milkovich.

Raising a hand, I patted my sister on the shoulder. She exhaled loudly, groaning in tandem. “Don’t sweat it now, sis. I think everything went well.” I stood, offering my hand to her. She accepted it. “You didn’t kick him out, didn’t yell at him and even let him melt Barbie dolls with Carl. I’d say you were pretty lenient, all things considering.” I don’t know if my words helped, but she nodded. 

We talked for a few more moments, mostly just Fiona reiterating her feelings of guilt and me reiterating that it wasn’t her fault. Jimmy jogged up the stairs, gesturing towards their room when he spotted us together. She nodded at him, giving me a quick hug before slouching after him. I just grinned. Poor girl.

On a whim, I sneaked past my bedroom and shuffled down the stairs. Sure enough, the only two bodies in sight were Kev and Veronica. As nimbly as I could, I checked outside via the window. Roughly twenty feet down the road, two figures were jogging in the direction of the old ball park, shoving at each other and shouting at the moon.


End file.
